


Three Time's an Omen

by Shadowofahunter



Series: New Member [2]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Derek Morgan, BAMF Spencer Reid, BAMF Stiles, Case Fic, Chimeras, Death, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Gen, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, Mythology - Freeform, Omens & Portents, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shapeshifter, Stiles Stilinski Feels, Stiles Stilinski Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-05 13:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16368857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowofahunter/pseuds/Shadowofahunter
Summary: Stiles and Reid know about the Supernatural, the rest of the team are still hidden form that world. When a new case comes around Stiles and Reid must find a way to protect their friends and their secret and hunt a new threat.





	1. The Omen

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so I am back to bring the second part of the 'New Member' series around. I will not be able to upload at a regular schedule as I am at university but I will try to upload when I can.
> 
> I hope this is is a suitable follow up to the first part and as requested focuses more heavily on the supernatural. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Stiles dodged under the whipping scales as the snakes’ head snatched back, curling up to jab out again. Sweat flicked from his hair as he leapt back from the horns arcing towards him wishing he had super reflexes, strength, speed, eyesight, smell and countless other powers he dropped to the floor and scrabbled to grab his dagger which was dangerously close to the dinner plate sized paw with talons curving from the golden fur. Seizing the knife he rolled to the left, leapt to his feet and struck out with the blade towards the face of the goat but he underestimated the speed of the animal and in a flash its teeth bit into the side of his forearm, swearing he ripped it out of its jaws as he flicked the blade so it pointed backwards out of his grip and pulled it down the length of the goats face. With a bellow the lions head swung round and, with a move that would have made Neo proud, he bent backwards and sprung around neatly leaping over the broad muscular shoulders of the beast and plunged the dagger into the connection between the lion’s fur and the snake’s acid green and yellow scales. 

A spurt of blood gushed from the wound and the snake tumbled, writhing, to the floor where it began to thicken and morph hissing wildly. Stiles did not waste time watching and spun on his toes ready to strike but the creature held back now. Blood raced down the lion’s legs staining the dark fur red. The lion was snarling, fangs bared and glistening with drool, the goat pushed its ears back and bared its teeth at the lion who shot a fuming glare at its other head. As the beast began to slowly circle him Stiles took this moment to gasp in air and take account of his injuries and to curse his luck which landed him in this situation.

~~72 HOURS AGO~~

The team were oblivious, Stiles had ensured that. They thought this was a group who all had a knowledge of Greek Mythology, backgrounds in zoology, and severe cases of species dysphoria. 

Stiles, however, knew this was a supernatural creature. The beast had been on a rampage savagely tearing apart with a brutality reserved only for the shapeshifters. Each victim had great claw marks across their body; long tears from the swiping front paws and deep back talon holes from securing the beast onto their prey. Various bite marks also tattooed the victims, the BAU team were baffled as there were three distinct and different animals here.

“I don’t understand how these three can work together.” JJ had her arms crossed as she studied the gore, “three people who all identify as different animals – so vastly different too: a lion, a goat, and a snake – with this level of brutality should not be able to function but they have repeatedly taken down victims efficiently and all in the same fashion.” 

Morgan chipped in next, “Maybe if all of them are invested in the same creature” he glanced over at Reid and Stiles for confirmation, “a chimera?”

Stiles nodded, “a Greek Chimera” unlike the teenagers who were genetic chimeras back in Beacon Hills this was a Pure Chimera, three people who combine into a huge monster just like Ethan and Aiden. 

“Yeah so what if they all are part of the chimera. One is a lion, one is a goat, and the last is a snake. Together they become one entity and, rather than being at odds and conflicting, work better as one unit.”

“In science fiction” Reid said, “there is a term called Group Mind. It’s where there is a hypothetical psychic unity within a group of people or organisms. It is something similar to this here. They could believe so fervently in them becoming this monster that their minds actually convince them they are unified.” He glanced over at Stiles who raised an eyebrow and the corner of this mouth twitched upwards. 

It had been a couple of months since Stiles had opened the door to the supernatural for Reid and since he had sped through the Bestiary, grilled Stiles on everything he knew, done his own research and added his own extensive knowledge to the Bestiary and followed Stiles on some of the more tame ‘meetings’ with various creatures ranging from some Lotus Eaters who were selling lotus flowers leading to numerous unwitting people to be stuck in a blissful apathy returning to themselves only after he and Stiles had given them the antidote, helped a ghost pass through the Veil, and met a lost Fylgja who had taken a shine to Reid much to Stiles’ amusement and had stayed in Virginia after she found a werewolf who happened to be an omega. 

Having Reid in the know was a huge help to Stiles as he could talk to Reid if ever there was an element to a case he couldn’t tell the others but using Reid’s brain could bypass the awkward looks they often gave him when he brought up shapeshifters and spirits.

Rossi, Hotch, JJ, Morgan, and Garcia thought they were really into mythology for a purely educational purpose. And it was a sort of interest, an interest of how to neutralise them as a threat, kill patterns, and typical places of habitation.

“We can figure it out on the plane” Hotch interrupted, “right now we need to go before this group strikes again”

The team had a difficult time trying to find the unsub, finding three alpha males together is difficult enough but when they are on a bloodthirsty rampage, the intensity steps up a little.

“Do you have any contacts who you can call?” Reid muttered under his breath as he and Stiles rifled through their information

“None that can help here. We know what it is, how many there are, what they do, how they do it. Just not where they are.”

“Chimeras are solitary so it mostly likely has a den of some sorts.” 

While the rest of the team delivered the profile Stiles and Spencer found any place that could house an eight foot tall, ten foot long monster (not including the snake mind you) and not have neighbours coming round asking if they could turn down the howls of its perishing prey a little as they were having dinner.

Finally they found part of the town was under construction after a hurricane had ruined most of it, secluded enough that the beast could roam but close enough that it could nip out for lunch and be gone before the cops arrived. 

They made a plan where Reid and Stiles would need to go around the empty part of town, scouting for possible hiding places. 

The rest of the team were about to interview the grief stricken family members so they notified Hotch and slipped out of the doors not seeing Stiles slip a long knife up his sleeve. 

~~PRESENT~~

The Chimera seemed to have had enough time to consult with itself and with a smooth motion soared over the few meters in one leap, both jaws gaping. Stiles bared his own teeth and bent his knees, scooping the stiletto upwards he forced his shoulder under the lion’s chin and thrust the dagger into the chest of the beast. He knew Chimeras could not be killed with a regular blade, but he did not want to kill it but to force the remaining people to separate. As the goat bleated and the lion roared he sped out of reach of the thrashing paws and glanced over at the snake only to see the final scales fading into the pale skin of a naked man. The animalistic screeches were becoming more and more human as the two remaining animals fell apart and collapsed to the hard ground.

Huge canines shrunk back to regular size, horns receded into the skull and fur was sucked back into the pores in the skin leaving two people gasping for breath. The one who was once a lion grabbed hold of the dagger and yanked it from her chest, throwing it aside she rolled to her side and stood up. Reaching down she helped the final man to his feet. 

Stiles’ cheeks flushed red as the trio faced him unfazed by their nudity. The lion woman had long thick dark blonde hair, eyes that swam with barely suppressed aggression, and lean powerful muscles. Goat man had dark grey hair and stubble, sharp features, and an aura of intimidation. Finally the snake was bald and had eyes the same vivid colour as his scales, his tongue occasionally ran over his lips, and was always subtly, constantly moving as though itching to lash out.

“Hi” Stiles tentatively offered when none of them responded he sucked in a breath, “I’m-”

“We don’t care” snarled the Lioness

Stiles nodded to himself, “fine.” Blunt speech then, “stop killing people.”

The trio grinned, the lion woman bared her teeth and Stiles was sure her canines enlarged slightly, “now why on earth would we do that? It is our…play time!”

“You’re killing people” Stiles waved his hands around, “to death!” he threw in for nostalgic effect as this also felt just like the one-sided arguments he used to have with Jackson

Confusion flashed across Goat guys face, “that’s the point, human”

“Now you say that like it’s a bad thing”

“Well isn’t it?” Baldy-locks stepped forwards, the sibilant “s” sound echoing on after he finished talking, “you are weak, so easy to kill, and so damn tasty”

“Surely it’s just copper?” Stiles incredulously answered

“It matters not” the Goat interrupted, “what makes you think you can stop us?”

“Asking nicely won’t do it?” Stiles offered. This did draw a genuine laugh from the Goat, Stiles’ confidence grew from that, he had gained a connection, tenuous and thin but a connection no less, “Fine, I have been in contact with some people, hunters.”

“Are you threatening us?!” the lioness snarled

“Yes, of course I am, dumbass. I’m not here to kill you-”

“What is stopping us from killing you then?”

“Why would I want to kill you? You’re unique, thousands of years old, an incredible creature of myths.” Stiles chuckled

“Even after all the murders? You still would not kill us?” The Goat asked genuine intrigue visible in his eyes

“Of course not.” Stiles shook his head

The trio regarded Stiles silently, then the Goat spoke again, “Very well, human. You have shown us respect, unusual for your species – so intent on massacring everything you see –we too shall show you the same honour. We will not kill you.”

Stiles gave them a thin-lipped smile, three cheers for that.

“However, you cannot expect us to stop.”

“I understand that.” Stiles answered, “I actually have a…job – if you could call it that – for you.” 

“You have a job” The snake jeered, “for us?”

“It is in Greece. Giants, Typhon’s children. They have risen from Tartarus and are wreaking havoc, saying he is coming”

“Typhon? Our father?” The lioness’ eyes glowed amber with fury, “he dares to rise while we still live?”

“Are you sure it is him?” The Goat earnestly asked

“I trust my information”

“We must leave, Trágos, we cannot let him escape a second time” The lioness whipped her hair around as she whirled to look at her sibling.

The Goat was considering Stiles, “But why tell us?” 

“I need you stop killing innocent people and I know you are the only creature in this whole world that hates Typhon to such an extent you would openly fight him. I know how he left your mother at her most vulnerable, leaving you exposed to Tartarus’ power. I know you want revenge.”

The Goat nodded thoughtfully, his gaze distant, then the snake touched his brother’s shoulder, “are you seeing it too?” 

“yes.”

The supernatural beings all turned to face Stiles, their faces unnervingly blank, opened their mouths and spoke in unison, “Beware the thrice appearing darkness, the unsuspecting doom, beware the stare that will condemn the unfortunate.”

Stiles listened confused and in awe, Chimeras were often an omen for disaster and misfortune, so he knew something was coming his way, but with this job it was always the case. However, to hear them deliver a prophesy was incredible, he could feel their words heavy in his ears swirling like a drink in his brain.

They blinked together and relaxed their tense shoulders, “we thank you for your words and mercy, we shall not forget it. Do not expect us to come to your aid. We shall not see you again, human.” The Goat fell silent and moving into a triangle the three stretched out their arms, linked wrists and stepped into each other. Bones crunched, skin stretched, hair thickened from pores and claws stretched from the end of digits. In a few painful sounding seconds the Chimera stood proudly before him. Neither being said anything; the silence was only broken by the powerful lungs of the beast and the loud beating of Stiles’ adrenaline filled heart.

The Chimera then turned away and leapt out of the empty window of the building, racing away the only reminder that the magnificent monster had been there was the faintest echo of a war cry as it travelled faster than any human mind could possibly comprehend.

Stiles’ legs suddenly decided to turn off all sensation and muscular strength as he collapsed onto the floor eyes wide and a delirious high-pitched laugh ricocheting off the metal walls. With numb fingers he pulled out his phone and called Reid, “It worked” a smile stuck on his face

“They’ve gone?” Spencer’s voice crackled through the speakers

“Yeah, the ploy worked, thank God you heard the Giants were roaming around or we would have been screwed.”

“What was the point they changed their minds?”

“They were blown away by my astonishing good looks and brilliant wit.” When Reid gave no response and Stiles could almost taste the disappointment exuding form his friend he sighed, “it was when I said I wouldn’t kill them. A Chimeras pride is its downfall, kiss a little ass and you’ve got a willing audience.”

“So you’re ok?”

“Perfectly so, just adjusting to understanding I talked down a freaking Pure Chimera!”

“What are we going to do about the team?” Reid said, smacking reality in Stiles’ face.

“It may just have to be an ‘unsolved case’ unfortunately, can’t have a scapegoat if there isn’t one.” Stiles sighed

“Agreed.”

And that was how it ended up, the team stayed for another few days but they could find nothing; no CCTV, no witnesses, no evidence. Everyone was utterly stumped and Morgan was frustrated on the flight back. He and Stiles were sat opposite each other, “Why kill all those people if you’re just going to leave?”

“Maybe they are just moving on to a different town?” Stiles offered

Morgan pressed his lips together and pulled out his phone, “I’m going to tell Garcia to put a tab on that case, if anything comes up I want to know.”

“Why is this so important to you?”

“It just seems off, three killers up and leave after killing that many people? No gloating to the media, no explanation, it is as though they just vanished.”  
“I don’t know, man. Maybe they had enough and killed each other, like we were saying – three alpha males all together? It was bound to implode.”

Morgan nodded slowly looking out of the window. 

~~

Back at the office the Team trudged in, exhausted and dreaming of their beds. After dropping their stuff, doing a rapid debrief, and collecting their things they all slogged back out of the glass doors, holding the door for Garcia who hurried in. No one spoke as the lift descended to the garage and the street. 

The journey home was uneventful for Stiles as he sat in the taxi watching life whip by in stark orange and black colours. His front door seemed to pop up in front of him suddenly; he had not remembered the walk up the stairs, “I need sleep” he muttered fishing the keys from his bag and rubbing the heel of his hand into his eyes. He caught sight of the little photo latched onto the keyring. A wave of nausea washed over him and his hand started to tremble. This picture used to hold so many good memories is now befouled by memories of his imprisonment. 

“Evening, Stiles” he started at the sound of his neighbour’s voice. Mr. Goras squeezed between him and the bannister of the stairs then turned to Stiles, “are you alright? You look pale, are you unwell?”

Stiles sucked in a breath and gave a short smile, “Oh no, I’m fine, just tired. Long day and all.” He then wished Mr. Goras a pleasant evening and stepped into his apartment. When the door clicked shut he reached up and slid the chain into place and locked the bolt. 

On autopilot he walked through to the kitchen and sat down at the table. He could feel his heart racing. Closing his eyes he saw flashes of green and white. The air was sticky and gloopy but he lengthened his breath and concentrated on his nostrils feeling the wave of air rushing through and out again. He sat completely still as he focused solely on his breathing pushing out his fear with the air. 

Only when he felt in control did he open his eyes again, he saw his hands were clenched in tight fists. He relaxed his muscles and opened his hands to see little red arches in his palms. He gritted his teeth mad suddenly realised how exhausted he truly felt, pushing himself up he staggered through to his bedroom, kicked off his shoes, set the alarm and passed out to a blissful unknowing only sleep can provide.


	2. Grey Switch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amazed at the reception the first chapter has received and I am enjoying writing so much so I thought it was a good time to bring chapter 2!   
> Enjoy!

Mike Hickman wiped his brow as he summited the rocky slope. Around him majestic grassy hills with trees dotted around the base full to bursting with chittering birds, and the greatest sight: a small cylinder of stone. The turret stood isolated on the hillside. Unlike most old structures no foliage grasped at its sides, no moss infected every crevice. Someone must obviously clean it, caring for this ancient and mysterious monument. 

This was the third time he had hiked up this path, the previous two he had seen the same creature in the distance. He was not sure what it was but he was going to try and get closer. It had not seemed big so maybe it was a fox or a deer. Curiosity drove him to take this third hike. His life had been oscillating recently. He had always hiked, it helped clear his head and he felt especially refreshed after his first hike in these hills, that was also the first time Mike had seen the strange animal, it had stood far in the distance ears alert and seemingly looking at Mike. Days after his first walk he had received a promotion he had been aiming towards for months. 

Elated he had climbed the hills again the very next week where, once again, he spotted the animal. He had raised an arm in familiar greeting but the animal had remained motionless. His smile had faltered slightly, the animal’s ears were still facing him but Mike seemed to feel a little threatened by it, maybe he was in its territory so he dropped his hand and moved on quickly continuing his walk. He also was sure it was slightly closer than before. However, when he returned home and looked at his phone he found his mother had died while he had been walking, she was killed by a sudden heart attack. He was devasted. He had been close with his mother but recently had not spoken to her. Her funeral was a sorrowful affair, his sister was distraught.

So it was with mixed emotions that he hiked up these hills again. Once for good luck, once for sadness. Was there a third event about to happen? He shook his head and chuckled to himself, “superstitious idiot.” He locked his gaze on the building and began his final journey. 

Twenty minutes later he stepped up beside the monument and grinned, he had made it. The view was even more beautiful here, the sun shone on the autumn land covering the golden leaves with a cool heat. Putting his hand to his forehead he squinted and swept his gaze over the horizon. 

He halted when he saw that creature again, it was not a fox nor was it a deer. It was a dog. It looked like a black spaniel, the dog was standing closer now. He could almost see its eyes, its mouth was open and panting.

It must be a stray or a runaway Mike thought to himself.

He called out to the dog and it approached him. However when it neared he saw its fur was matted, eyes red and infected, and a bright red tongue lolled out of its mouth. It had begun at a walk, then broke into a trot which quickly became a sprint towards Mike. 

This dog must be rabid, he turned and began running away from it back down the hill, his heart was pounding, vision shaking as he hurtled down the hill, the dogs rasping breaths in his ears. Suddenly it seemed to dissipate and he thought he must have out run it or it fell and lost him. 

The impact shocked Mike more than anything, hot breath blew in his face, dry fur scratched his skin while claws scraped at his limbs. His breath was forced out of his lungs as the stony ground dug into his side. The teeth clacked shut just missing his nose. Mike scrambled around desperately trying to fling the animal off him screaming for help. No one would hear him. The dog reared its head back jaw dropping wide.

The sky suddenly lost all its colour, it did not drain away like spilled paint of the floor. Instead it was as though someone had switched off the blue. Grey filled the heavens, white clouds seeped into view. It was beautiful, all the grey, it seemed so serene and calming. The trees too were dull and a lifeless grey. All colour had been sapped from the world leaving only the grey impression of past vividness. 

There was a tightness in his breathing as though he needed to cough so he tried to reach up but found his limbs were sluggish and his arm only shifted slightly on the floor. A frown flickered across his brow, but he could not really feel it. He was confused more than anything, why wouldn’t his arm move? Tiny little pin pricks were itching his chest. He wanted to push it off, it was heavy and hot. Laboriously he rolled his head to face the sky fully and came nose to nose with the canine. 

Mike smiled like a drunk man, the dog was sitting on his chest, tail wrapped neatly around its paws. He opened his mouth to speak but only a hiss of air escaped instead. He tried again but he found himself choking on liquid. He retched, convulsing on the floor still strangely emotionless. He found his mind was oddly quiet now. It was as though he was in the third person, a mere observer in his own body. He felt the cold air snapping at his flesh, the spittle running down his cheeks, mixed with tears. Suddenly his eyes rolled backwards and a rush of adrenaline rushed through him. The greatest burst of life he had ever felt. 

He felt his mouth, lips coated like a lady’s, glisten in the grey sunlight as he began to smile. He felt weightless, limbs numb and cold. The chill spread rapidly into his torso. His breaths failed to provide oxygen and his vison was not just grey anymore, it was fraying at the edges, his reality peeling apart like old paint. The dog stood up and stepped off his chest and as his vision tunnelled Mike saw an angel. A woman knelt beside him, her mouth moved but he could not hear her voice. Finally his sight collapsed in on itself like a dying star and Mike was engulfed by nothing.


	3. Once for Joy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for being patient with me. I really appreciate all the comments I have received, if you have any constructive criticism please let me know! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“Are you telling me you’ve never seen a Mets game?” Stiles’ astounded voice could be heard through the glass doors.

He and JJ pushed through the entrance into the bullpen, “No, Stiles. Why would I when I could see the Redskins?” She grinned at him

“Because” he began as he slapped his bag down onto his desk and folding his arms, “I had to suffer through that boring ass football game last weekend and if the Mets are playing that means two things” he held up one finger, “one: I will be there and two: you will too when I drag you there to support the best sports team ever.”

“Ooh-ho-ho you really think you can convince me to go?”

“How about a bet? I win you come, you win you miss out on the most exhilarating time of your life”

“No. I don’t do bets” JJ turned back to her work

Stiles rolled his eyes and went to find another suitable bet when Morgan leant back in his chair, “Did someone say the Mets?”

Stiles widened his eyes, “yes! Are you-“

“Absolutely not. Disgraceful. Chicago Cubs all the way. The only decent team in baseball” Morgan turned to Reid, “Reid agrees don’t you, kid?”

Reid did not look up from his paperwork but distractedly replied, “Everybody In” while half raising a fist of support.

“‘Everybody in’? I think not, isn’t it ‘Try Not to Suck’?” Stiles chortled. Morgan harrumphed as JJ hid her smile behind her hair. Stiles then turned to Reid, “do you know The Mets’ slogan?”

“Ya Gotta Believe” he replied with the exact same hand gesture as last time,

“I don’t know about you guys, but I am sensing someone isn’t fully invested in our conversation” Stiles regarded with a smirk.

The four of them sat down and began to chip away at the pile of paperwork and sea of emails awaiting their attention. The morning passed quickly, Stiles got up to grab a cup of coffee and chatted to some of the other agents as he waited for the kettle to boil. 

It was 2:16pm when Hotch came out of his office and called the team up to the meeting room. Garcia was already seated in her chair when the rest filed in. 

Once they were all seated she handed out the file and began talking, “Ok guys so over two years 10 people have been killed in The Hanging Hills, Connecticut.” Garcia clicked the remote and images popped up on the board as she listed off names, “Each of the victims were killed in a similar fashion. Namely they were mauled by a dog and then as you can see, their eyes and tongue were cut out. Not bitten or clawed, sliced out with a blade of some sort. The most recent murder happened three days ago, Mike Hickman. 25 years old and hiked regularly. His body was found by dog walkers, it was on the path and had been exposed to the elements for 3 days.”

Stiles looked at the gruesome images, “It looks ritualistic, the way the bodies are all lying perfectly straight.”

“A good observation, my keen-eyed friend” Garcia nodded, “They also were all pointed feet first to the West.”

“Sun sets in the West. Maybe the killer is trying to symbolise end of life?” Morgan added

JJ was flicking through the file when she noted, “all the killings took place in Fall: September, October, and November. Like Morgan was saying, end of year, end of the day, ending of life.”

“This person must be organised as there is no DNA apart from the dogs-”

“That is strange how they use a dog” Stiles interrupted, “Sorry Hotch but it says here how it may be a Spaniel. The jaw size isn’t huge, so it could be a smaller dog but with enough strength and size to take down a fully-grown man. Spaniels are quite aggressive breeds, but the extent of this mauling is incredible.”

“Maybe if it was trained?” Hotch answered, “either way they could get no other DNA except the dog and nothing like this happens during the rest of the year, Fall obviously holds significance to the unsub.”

“There is no set type of victim for this unsub, they cross race, gender, and religion. It may just be kills of opportunity, get them when they get near enough. In such a secluded area there can’t be many people passing by.” Morgan twirled his pencil in his fingers. 

“Ok we need to get there as soon as we can,” Hotch stood up and the rest of the team rose too, “wheels up in 30.”

~~

The sun was shining down without much heat behind it. Reid and Hotch had gone straight to the sheriff’s office to get started on the profile. Morgan and Stiles had been left to look at the site of the murder. Rossi and JJ had driven to see the M.E. for the autopsy. 

“Hi, I am SSA Jareau and this is SSA Rossi, we are here about the hiker case.”

“Good afternoon, agents. Before we go in you might want to cover your nose.”

Through the doors the body of Mike Hickman lay prone on the metal table, a white sheet covering up to his armpits. 

The Autopsy Technician peeled back the sheet when they closed around him, the smell was so strong it made everyone’s eyes water, “As you can see after three days in the elements he has decomposed quite quickly, the lacerations” he gestured to the numerous slashed on his torso and throat, “allowed insects to get to his organs faster. There was not much bloating as the gasses could escape through the lacerations.”

“What is the official cause of death?” Rossi asked, his hand over his mouth and nose, it was a smell you can taste.

“Exsanguination, he bled out very quickly,” he pulled the chin down to reveal the empty mouth, “the tongue and eyes were all removed post mortem, so he was not tortured in your regular sense. This was a brutal death, but he would have died quickly.”

“Small Mercy.” Rossi said

~~

“Plenty of trees as cover.” Morgan noted as he and Stiles strode up the path, “could catch your victims unaware. Jump out as they are running away.”

“Agents!” A woman strode towards them. She wore a grey suit, hair up in a business bun, and a notebook clutched in her hand, “so glad you could come. Sergeant Fielding.” She clasped and briskly shook their hands, “have you got any ideas yet?”

“Not yet, no. We need more time.” Stiles was taken aback by her eagerness, she could get in the way with her enthusiasm. 

“Of course. Well as you can see Hickman was murdered here.” She pointed to the bloodstain in the dust, “We have preserved the area as best we can for you.”

“Thanks.” Morgan was already focused on the murder site, “Do you see the blood spatter on the tree?”

Fielding looked like she wanted to keep talking, her mouth promptly clapped shut when Stiles answered instead, “looks arterial. Maybe the dog went straight for the throat. Would stop the vic running away but it would make the kill quicker.”

“But where did it come from?”

Stiles stood next to the bloodstain and looked from the tree across the area, trees surrounded the area like the police department, everywhere you looked there they were, “what if it came from behind. Boom. Knocked down, vulnerable. They struggle. The dog sees an opening and bites down on the throat. The unsub could stand back and watch.” Stiles bent down and closely studied the earth. He then looked back up at Fielding, “did your guys find anything?”

“Yes. They found three sets of prints. One matching Hickman, a dogs pawprint and another mystery print. They wore no shoes, had size” she checked her notes, “five feet and left only four prints, we can’t find any more in the woods around here. Thing is the same footprints were found at all the previous murder sites too.”

“The forest is always shifting. A perfect forensic countermeasure.”

“Is there any higher ground? Maybe we can see where they could have escaped to.” Morgan asked standing up

“Of course!” Fielding grinned, “follow me agents. The top of the hill isn’t far away.”  
The agents exchanged expressions and followed the detective up the incline. When they finally breached the summit, the trees released their grip on the soil and left open land before them. Ahead there was an ancient looking tower. 

“Now that is cool.”

“That is Castle Craig. It’s been there as long as the town has. Possibly longer.” Fielding smiled at the agents, you can go inside it, it’s a viewing tower.”

Stiles expected the inside to smell damp and for it to be cold, however, it was warm, dry, and airy. The faintest smell of flowers touched the air. For such an old building it was in brilliant condition. A single metal staircase wound up the short height which led to the top of the castle. The view was brilliant. Meriden stretched out beyond their eyes.

“If you look over there” Fielding indicated, “you can see Long Island Sound, and over there is Mount Tom.” The gentle looking slope of Mount Tom was swirling with clouds, the dark haze of distance made the Mountain look so small.

Morgan tapped Stiles’ shoulder, “do you see that?”

Stiles turned around “See what?”

Morgan pointed into the distance, “I can’t make it out but it looks like a deer or something. Maybe a coyote.”

“We have had an influx in these recent years.” Fielding joined them, “it’s been a nuisance trying to keep the hikers safe, they are horrible creatures, coyotes.”

“They’re not that bad.” Stiles defensively shot back, his protective streak for Malia flaring up

“You guys can’t see it?” Morgan pressed them

Both Stiles and Fielding confirmed they couldn’t see anything.

~~

“One coffee with milk, one black coffee-” 

“And another black coffee with a sugar. Mine.” Stiles lifted the drink from JJ’s hands, “thanks.” 

“Ok.” Rossi drew everyone together, “we have ten people murder by a dog, mystery footprints, missing eyes and tongue, and no witnesses.”

“The feet are small, most men don’t have size feet.” Morgan said

“The average foot size for men in America is size 10 and for women is six. So statistically it is more likely to be a woman.” Stiles replied

“Women are more likely to use other weapons, whereas 67% of men use a gun, only 39% of women do. They are more likely to use a knife, or other methods.” Reid said, “this unsub using an animal to deliver the killing blow, is beyond any stats I can draw on.” 

The team returned to their files, searching for any clue they could scrape together to form a cohesive case. 

“Hey Stiles,” Morgan said, “what was the name of that tower again? The one in the Hills.”

“Castle Craig. Why?”

“I don’t know. Something just felt strange about it.” Morgan out his pen down and leant back in the seat, “When we went inside it felt like someone lived there: no dirt anywhere, smelled clean and fresh, no mould or damp…”

“I thought the same. Maybe someone, a relative perhaps of the guy who dedicated it to the town – Mr. Hubbard – keeps it in good condition?”

“It wasn’t just in good condition though. It was like a house.” Morgan dragged his laptop towards him, “I want to find who owns it.” Stiles peered over Morgan’s shoulder as he found it did in fact belong to someone, “who is Mai Cocheta?”

“Where does she live?” She lives in town.” 

“Let’s go meet her.”


End file.
